


A Fever Dream

by Ellisama



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/M, Late Chrobinweek2016 submission, Modern AU, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9502610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellisama/pseuds/Ellisama
Summary: Robin gave her life to stop Grima. She had never expected to wake up again, especially not in a world that does not remember her the way she remembers them. Who is the woman who looks eerily like her, where are her children, and why is Chrom so distant?





	1. A Better Life

**Author's Note:**

> For Chrobinweek2016, a belated entry! I'm doing the prompts in the reverse order.

“Robin! No!” Chrom cried, but it was already too late. The swirling dark magic within her took form in the palm of her hand, and she fed every remaining ounce of power she had left into it until it was large enough to kill even the foulest of beings. She took a deep breath, perhaps her last once, and released it, watching it swirl towards the fallen Fell Dragon.

It cried bloody murder, until there was nothing left of it to cry. Even before the being started fading, she could feel her body become undone. Chrom cried her name once more, but it was already too late. Robin could see him running toward her, unshed tears in his eyes and desperation in his voice. Her gaze switched to the rest of her companions, her friends who had given her a new life despite the odds. They had sticked to her through the end, and for them, for their children, and for their children’s children, her life was but a small price to pay.

In the end, while her very soul started unraveling in the wind, she could only feel peace. “Thank you, Chrom. For everything…” She uttered out with her very last breath, allowing what remained of her to collapse into his waiting arms. These were the hands that had raised her up from nothing, and it was only fitting that she would meet her end in them as well. “Tell the others...my last thoughts were of them…”

He begged the gods for mercy, their children at her side during her final moments, until nothing of her remained but a vague whisper: “May we meet again, in a better life…”

“Robin! No! Ah gods, NO!”

Before the world turned black, she could hear a few oddly familiar words…

 

-

 

When the darkness parted and gave way to a bright new day, it started out oddly familiar, “We have to do something!”

It took her a second to remember who that voice belonged to, but once she did it could have been nobody but Lissa. She sounded somewhat distressed, but equally elated.

Then, a deeper voice that filled her with warmth answered her call. “What do you propose we do?” Her breath caught in her throat, and tears threatened to spill. 

Robin carefully tried to open her eyes, but the light above her was blinding, and she could barely make out anything but two dark figures looming over her. “I...I dunno?” Lissa said like that first time in the field, years ago.

Her entire body ached and she could barely feel her toes, but she laughed regardless: Even in her wildest dreams had she not expected to be returned to the land of the living, delivered right into the hands of those she loved most. 

“I see you’re awake now…” Chrom said to her, and Robin could feel his hand lightly caressing her cheek, while Lissa ran out of the… room?

Slowly the world around her was taking shape, and it was nothing like the field Robin had expected. Instead she was met with white walls and soft sheets, strange beeping noises all around her. She tried to move her head to the side, but was met with tired, unwilling muscles that protested with every inch she moved. Where was Frederick? Where were Morgan and Lucina? 

Or perhaps a better question, where was she? 

Suddenly a woman in black and yellow rushed in. There was something oddly familiar about her white hair, the tilt of her nose, and the brown of her eyes, but for the life of her Robin could not remember ever meeting this woman. The feeling was not mutual, if the tears of joy in the woman’s eyes were any indication.

“Robin?” The white haired woman asked, her voice hesitant. Robin could barely summon the strength to nod, but the small gesture was enough to break whatever reserves the woman had left. She rushed to her side, and much to Robin’s regret, Chrom stepped aside to make place for her.

The strange woman buried her face into Robin’s neck, and carefully embraced her, soft hands brushing over hers. Her touch felt familiar, and yet none of it made sense. “Oh gods! I thought you would never awaken!”

If she’d had more power, if the world wasn’t turning upside down with every breath she took, Robin would have pushed her away. However, every breath was a labor and she could barely keep her eyes open, let alone fight off a woman who obviously meant well.

“Please give her some space!” Lissa cried mercifully from afar, but Robin was already losing her battle with sleep, and could no longer keep her eyes open. Slowly, the world blinked out of existence, and she was engulfed by merciful darkness.

 

-

 

When she awoke the second time, it was to the sound of a familiar lullaby. Chrom had a lovely singing voice, even though nobody but his immediate family would ever find out. Only in the private comfort of the royal nursery would he sing to little Lucy until she finally succumbed to sleep.

The sound of his voice grounded her into the here and now, and allowed her to climb from the comforting darkness that surrounded her into his world. Robin opened her eyes and blinked twice. She was in the same strange room as she had woken up before, with the same annoying beeping sounds. Her body felt similarly drained, but it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as last time, and she was able to slowly accustom to the light.

It was just her and Chrom in the room, his right hand cradled between hers, and his left holding some strange, glowing device she had never seen before that held his attention fully. Light of the small rectangular lamp reflected in his dark blue eyes. Gone was his usual blue attire and armor. Instead he wore some unfamiliar, rugged fabric and a tight fitting shirt with short sleeves, that covered the brand of the Exalt. 

She opened her mouth to say something, but her voice would not come. Instead a gurgled, hoarse sound came out, not quite what she had intended, but enough to draw his attention to her. Chrom’s fingers curled around her own, and his eyes slid over hers.

“Are you awake?” He asked hesitantly, and with much effort Robin managed to nod.

His face broke into a large smile, and he looked like he was about to tackle her into the bed. Despite her health, Robin was slightly disappointed that he restrained himself. How long had it been since they had any time like this together, with just the two of them?

There was something off about Chrom’s smile. “I’m glad… try to stay awake while I get your mother, okay? She was so afraid you would not wake up again after you fell asleep so quickly again yesterday.”

Robin frowned deeply, trying to make sense of his words. “My---- M-,” she tried to ask him, but her voice sounded strained in her throat, as if she had screamed war commands from the top of her lungs for hours. 

Chrom quickly silenced her with a finger on his lips. “Shh… Don’t try to speak yet, before you hurt yourself. The doctor said you should slowly but surely try to regain control of your body, so don’t worry. You’ll be the same old Robin in no time!”

His words made no sense. Had Grima really done such a number on her? She tried to make sense of it, but her mind was hazy at best. Chrom implied she had been asleep for a while, and if her bodily weakness was indication, she must have been asleep for quite some time. How long, she tried to ask with her eyes.

“I…,” Chrom started, his eyes averted from her own. There was something boyish about it, something she had hardly seen in him ever since Emmeryn died. When he met her eyes again, his voice was heavy. “We missed you Robin. Gods, I always knew you’d return to us… but you sure kept us waiting.”

Robin opened her mouth, but stopped herself from saying anything. Instead, she used all her willpower to curl her fingers around her husband’s. Where was the ring he had gifted her on the eve of their wedding? 

“I’ll go get your mother, try to stay awake this time, okay?”

Robin’s eyes widened, and she tried to hold onto his hand. What mother did he speak of? Had they found her while she was out? Or was this all some sick dream she would not be able to remember once she came to her senses?

“D---”

Chrom shook his head, a small blush on his cheeks. “She’s missed you like no tomorrow, Robin. I…,” he seemed to hesitate, but Robin’s eye contact did not waver until he relented and sagged back into the chair and pulled the glowing device from before out of his pocked. “I’ll call her. Keep your eyes open, please… Gods, Robin, I don’t think we’ll survive it if you don’t, so please, try to stay with me.”

Robin kept her eyes on his face, drinking in his every emotion. He pressed the rectangular a few times in different places, and then put it next to his ear. To her great surprise, he started speaking to it! “Mrs. Plegia? No, Robin is fine, don’t worry…”.

He paused for a second, and Robin could softly hear a few words coming out of the magic device. It was obviously some kind of voice transmitter, perhaps an invention of Miriel? “Actually, she more than fine. She’s awake again, but she won’t let me leave… I’ll see you in a bit… don’t worry, I’ll make sure she keeps her eyes open.”

He then turned the device away, and turned back to her. Did she detect tears in his eyes? If she’d had the strength, she would have kissed them away. She wanted to ask where little Lucy was… had her little girl grown up much without her? 

Robin tried to mouth her daughter’s name, but it turned out that whatever lipreading ability she had taught Chrom during their marriage had been completely lost in the time she was gone. By the time the strange woman from earlier entered, he was convinced she wanted to eat lasagna, whatever that may be.

The woman watched their exchange with a fond look on her face for a moment, giving Robin the chance to study her in return. Chrom had referred to her as her mother before, and she would have been blind not to see the likeness. Their hair was equally white, and she had the same dark brown eyes Morgan possessed, equally kind and curious. 

And yet, the very idea of a mother was foreign to her. She knew of course that she must have come from somewhere, but her previous experience with parents was less than great, to say the least. But Chrom seemed to trust her, the gullible, lovable fool, and that should be enough for now.

“Robin, are you feeling better?” Her supposed mother asked carefully, as if the words themselves would put her back to sleep.

In lieu to an answer, she nodded weakly. Simple body movements were draining, but it was worth seeing the radiant look on Chrom’s face when she did, mirrored on her mother’s face.

“I’ll leave the two of you alone, then,” Chrom said, getting up. The sound that came from Robin’s throat was anything but graceful, but she barely had the strength to grasp his hand. He looked at her strangely. “I’ll be back tomorrow, if that’s what you want Robin.”

“No, Chrom. Please stay. She seems distressed, and with her fragile condition, I’d hardly like to risk losing her again,” her mother pleaded, her hands ghosting over Robin’s. There was something oddly familiar about it, and the ghost of a memory flashed through her mind, though the imagines didn’t quite stick nor make sense.

Chrom seemed hesitant for a moment, urging her mother to take the chair he’d been using. “I’d love to, Mrs Plegia. But I have class tomorrow, and my parents were expecting me home roughly an hour ago.”

“I can call them, if you’d like. I’m sure your mother would understand the situation” There was a desperate edge to her voice that sounded eerily like Lucina. “Please, Chrom.”

Chrom’s eyes flickered over to her own, as if he was searching for something. Whatever he was looking for, he must have found it, because he sighed deeply and nodded. “Okay then. I’ll call them myself to tell them I’m staying over.”

“I’ll make sure to ready the guest room, then,” she said, patting his shoulder affectionately. There was obviously some sort of trust between these two, and since Frederick deemed her worthy of being alone with his liege, she must have done something to win their trust. 

Robin tried to channel that thought to keep her calm, but the fact remained that she was alone in a room she did not know, her body a broken mess that refused to listen to her and her mind hazy at best. 

“He’s not going to be gone for long, you know.” The words were quiet, almost sassy, and immediately pulled Robin out of her thoughts. Perhaps it was a small mercy that she could not speak, for what in heaven’s name was she going to tell this woman. 

Something in her face must have given away her distress, for the woman’s voice suddenly shattered into a thousand breathless fragments. “Gods, Robin. Why do you look at me like that? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.... It’s just me, dear. I’ve missed you so much...”

Had Chrom neglected to tell her she was an amnesiac? It was almost awkward to see the woman cry over something could not remember, and she had no idea how to comfort her. Was this how Morgan had felt when he and Lucina reunited, only without any memory of her? She had held her daughter that night, when everyone else had gone to bed, while she cried bitter tears. They had gone through hell and back together, and all of that meant nothing to her little brother. The only person who truly knew her pain, gone. In the end, they had come to see it as a blessing, for Morgan had none of the bitterness Lucina described his pre-amnesiac was known for. 

But that didn’t make it any easier. Robin put her reservations aside and put herself in this woman’s shoes, as if she was the mother and not the child. Naga knew she had plenty of practise with that after taking care of two nearly adult children for a full year. 

With effort, she cradled the woman’s hand between her own, caressing it like she would with a child. It helped, for the tears faded away and a hollow but genuine smile appeared on her mother’s face, her voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind, huh?”

If Robin could have laughed, she would have.

Chrom barged back into the room with little grace. “Emm is coming over to bring some clothing for tomorrow, but they’re fine with it….,” he paused when he took in the scene in front of him, and a small but tell-tale blush rose to his cheeks. “Oh, sorry. Was I interrupting something?”

Her mother wiped away the remains of tears from her eyes, and shook her head.“No, dear. I’m just so very happy.” 

Chrom looked slightly awkward, his posture stiff and his brow furrowed, but he was smiling all the same as he settled on the side of her bed, his hand a comforting presence on her ankle. But it was not enough to change her mind from running overtime. Emm? As in, Emmeryn, dead Exalt of Ylisse? And who were those parents Chrom spoke of? During the interbellum, she had read up on the history of the family she was marrying into, and while accounts on Chrom’s father’s reign differentiated, they all agreed on one thing: he was long dead. His wife had died during Lissa’s birth, leaving three orphans and a broken nation behind.

More time travelers, from the past this time? It would explain her mother’s presence at the very least, but it still didn’t make any sense. Robin closer her eyes, and tried to focus on the magic core within her body. It was weak, but it was there nonetheless, and with willpower alone she tried to summon it, looking for any sign of illusion. This room, these clothes, these people… save for Chrom, none of it made sense. Was this but another ploy of Grima?

But no matter how many times she tried to detect magic, there was simply nothing. All it did was exhaust her worse than she already was, and she had trouble keeping her eyes open. 

“Go to sleep, Robin. As long as you promise to wake up again in the morning, we don’t mind,” Chrom said almost jokingly, unaware of the turmoil in her mind. 

She had little choice: sleep was claiming her and every second to keep her eyes open was a fight equal to four hungry Risen. In the end, the odds were stacked against her, and she succumbed to slumber.

 

-

 

The third and fourth time she woke up were uneventful. She ate some strange, gooey food that was probably beneficial for her health, and saw some familiar faces, though Chrom was always there. 

The fifth time her strength was slowly returning to her, and with her husband’s help she was able to sit up in the bed, and speak a little bit in raspy, broken words. It was a slow process, but progress nonetheless. 

When asked where Lucina and Morgan were, she was met with strange looks, and with every following time she woke up without her children by her side, she feared the worst. What world was this, where the mention of their names brought out nervous glances?

The sixth time she woke up marked a difference though, for Chrom was not next to her when she woke up this time.

“Drink this, it should make speaking easier, if only for a bit.” Libra had always been a kind man, and while he was as distant as he had always been, his hands were warm and caring, testing her muscles gently to assess the damage. 

Robin obeyed him without question. The liquid was thick but sweet, probably a medicine mixed with honey, and she could feel it soothe her sore throat almost instantly. 

“Ch-r-o?” She gritted out hoarsely, testing her voice. A lot less painful that the previous time.

Her mother averted her eyes, but remained silent.

“He went to his classes, Robin,”Libra replied, his eyes darting back and forth between mother and daughter. “Though I believe he was here when you woke up?”

Her mother’s voice sounded distant. “We noticed that she only woke up when he was here, so he makes a point of showing up every day before breakfast. He’ll be back within the hour, knowing that reckless boy.”

Robin held her silence. ‘May we meet again, in a better life,’ these had been her words. But every time she woke up, it seemed like a dream, and not necessarily one better than the life she had left behind.

“He might be her anchor. It is not uncommon in coma patients,” Libra theorized while checking her pulse. Robin kept her heartbeat steady, not betraying the growing sense of alarm growing in her. Before she woke up, Chrom had never wavered from her side, despite the odds and frankly, common sense. Had he not, she might have succumbed to Grima, too weak to offer resistance. It made sense that they were together even in this strange world she ended up in.

“We assumed the same thing…,” her mother quickly agreed, though not without a frown. “Though does that mean she remains dependant on him?”

Were they not married? Of course they were dependant on each other. That was what marriage was all about, leaning on each other through the good and the bad. Why was her mother questioning this?

Unless...

“Most likely not. He probably just helps her keep a grasp on her consciousness,” Libra said, shaking his head. He then turned back to her, which was great because Robin got sick very quickly of people talking about her as if she could not hear them. “You were very lucky to have returned to us, Robin. Naga herself must have been looking out for you. Not many people recover from what you have been through with as little permanent damage as you did.”

Granted, not many people were the vessel of the god of destruction. “Grima?” she managed to utter through her sore throat. It was getting better though, maybe a few more spoons of the Libra’s medicine and she’d actually be able to form a sentence!

The monk frowned, though only slightly. “We can pray to Grima too, if that makes you feel better.” Robin’s eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head. Who in their right mind would pray to the thing she had given herself to destroy? 

Libra interpreted her reaction with a gentle, amused smile. “No? Well, I suppose modern medicine is more reliable than the whims of a god.”

Robin shook her head, and tried to speak clearly. “Whe-- am-m I?”

For the first time since she had uttered Grima’s name, her mother and Libra stared straight at her.

Her mother’s voice was grave, almost fearful. “You’re at home, Robin. Where else would you be…?”

Robin shook her head, feeling the beginning of a headache forming already. “N-no.” 

The woman swallowed deeply, and walked to her bed, sitting right down next to her, so close that neither of them had the luxury of avoiding this conversation. “Robin, love, look at me,” her mother asked her, cradling her cheek gently, a heartbreaking truth already in her eyes.  “Do you know who I am?”

For a second Robin considered lying, just to spare this woman’s feelings. But… it wouldn’t be right. She averted her eyes, and shook her head. 

“I’m your mother, Robin.” The sound of her voice was enough to break her heart. “That’s your name. Do you remember your name?”

Robin nodded this time, carefully meeting the woman’s eyes, red rimmed from the tears and dark bags beneath them.

She continued, a hint of desperation in her voice, “Then, Chrom. You remember him right? You said his name.”

“Liss-a,” Robin whispered softly, nodding.

Her supposed mother’s breath caught in her throat, betrayal flashing through her eyes. Before Robin could do anything, she took her into her arms, pressing her close against her chest in the hope. Robin felt her mother’s breath hitch through their embrace, that’s how close they were pressed together. With effort, she managed to put a hand on her mother’s shoulder, and held her like she would have held Lucina after a particularly bad nightmare. 

When her mother spoke again, her voice was shrill and demanding towards Libra. “The doctors said there was no brain damage, Libra, why does she not remember me?”

Libra put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, gently prying them apart. “Please calm yourself, Mrs. Plegia. This might be temporary, a side effect of the coma.”

“How  l-lo...ng?” Robin whispered hoarsely, her throat already aching. But she had to know, even if it meant setting her own lungs on fire. 

Her mother blinked, her breath caught in her throat, but Libra’s voice was gentle. “You were out for eight months, Robin,” he said, showing her a glowing rectangle of her own with some numbers on it, which should mean something to her but didn’t. “It’s been eight months since you were hit by a car and fell into a coma.”


	2. Domestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic life, redux. What Chrom doesn't know, can't hurt him.

“How is your voice today, Robin?”

“Still a bit painful, but I will manage,” she admitted after she a sip of water. Chrom took the glass from her hand once she finished it, his warm hands ghosting over hers and sending shivers down her spine. On a whim, she grasped it with both hands and cradled it against her chest, the familiar feeling of his skin against her making her feel at ease. The world was blurry still, and her body barely felt her own to command most days. More often than not she awoke in a daze, around people who said things that didn’t make sense and dodged her requests for clarification time and again.

But this, his callused hand in hers, always by her side, _this_ was her home in this madness. She gently rubbed circles into the back of his hand, noticing the lack of ring. When had he taken it off, and why? When she looked up to ask him, the tell-tale look of discomfort was written all over his face, to her great surprise. “What? Is this not okay? Are you hurt?”

Chrom pulled back his hand back a bit too eagerly, nervously pushing back a few strands of hair behind his ear. “You just, never touched me so much before. Not that I mind! But…,” he strayed, refusing to meet her eyes. “You’ve been different, ever since you woke up. It’s in the little things, and I know I shouldn’t be complaining since you’re awake and all, but I suppose I’m just afraid the coma changed you, and I won’t recognize my best friend anymore.”

 _“Best… friend?”_ Robin uttered incredulously.

Her face must have spoken her utter disbelief for her, because Chrom’s own nervous expression quickly morphed into a panicked one. “You… said you remembered me, I assumed that…,” Assumed what? Robin wanted to yell, but the pained tone of his voice made her keep her silence. “I _am_ still your best friend, right?”

_What. The. Hell?_

She mustered all her patience, and trapped his gaze with her own. “Chrom… you’ve always been so much more than that to me. I’m merely surprised to hear you call me that of all things.” She said slowly, making sure every word got through to him. She wanted to hear him say it first, needed it like water and like air. How about Wife? Soulmate? Or one of those other terms of endearment he sometimes whispered when it was just the two of them? It didn’t matter which one, as long as it came from his lips.

But it never did, every silent tick of the clock adding to the desperate feeling slowly growing in her stomach. Dr. Libra forbid me from asking before you’re ready, but… what exactly _do_ you remember?”

“Everything after you found me in the field four years ago, Chrom. The shepherds, the war with Plegia, Emmeryn, Lucina-” Every word was more desperate than the previous one, until she started coughing. Damn that Grima, even in death he managed to screw her over.

“Ho, ho, calm down.” Chrom rubbed circles on her back, a movement that felt painfully fake and wonderfully familiar at the same time. “Plegia? Like your last name? Isn’t that your mother’s old hometown? And who is Lucina, is she a friend of yours?”

Robin blinked in sheer disbelief. “You… don’t remember Lucina?” This had to be a cruel joke, for their daughter was his pride and joy. Why would he hurt her like this? “Our Lucy?” She whispered, tears prickling behind her eyes.

“Should I?” His face was an open book to her, always had been, and it was clear as day that there was no lie there.

“Where am I, Chrom?” Robin spit out, ripping the blanket off her. Every muscle screamed at her while she moved her legs over the edge of the bed, hands frantically looking for a tome or sword, her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Or rather, who are _you_ , for you are not the man I followed to the end of the world. He would _never…_ ,” she trailed off, unable to speak through the pain. Damn these useless muscles!

The look-a-like at least shared his strength with her husband, and easily pushed her back into the bed. “Relax, Robin! The doctor told you you had to be careful, you’re still very fragile!” He yelled at her, his brow furrowed in worry just like her husband’s would be. Damn, what kind of dark magic was this? “And what do you mean _‘who are you’_? You said you recognized me!”

“You may bear his resemblance, but my- he would _never-_ I-” Robin grit out through the pain, and with her remaining strength she pushed his arms off her, and threw her weight forward, off the bed. She hit the floor with a painful thump, but the pain was nothing compared to the feeling of utter betrayal that threatened to rip her chest apart.

“Robin, stay with me!” Chrom gritted between his teeth, but Robin could barely register his voice as her vision slowly twisted and turned into nothingness. The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was Chrom’s frantic cries for help. “Dammit! Mrs. Plegia! Please, something is wrong with Robin!”

-

 

When she awoke again, calming red and orange light cast long shadows into the bedroom, reflecting wonderfully on the older woman’s short white hair. In one of their rare private moments during the long campaign against Valm, Chrom had once taken a strand of her own hair, so very much like this woman’s, and admitted that it had been the first thing he’d fallen for. She’d blushed as bright as the sunset that day, giddy with love. Now, it only brought tears to her eyes.

“Are you feeling better now?” The woman who had claimed to be er mother before said with a small tremor in her voice but a kind look in her eyes. She knew that look, she’d used it many times herself, to mask all the worry she felt when Morgan’s head started hurting or Lucina overworked herself again. She’d seen in on the face of every mother, just never _her_ mother.

Robin opened her mouth to answer, but a sudden jolt of pain shot through her head, originating from where she had hit the ground.

“I send Chrom away to get some groceries, he shouldn’t be gone for long.” Her supposed mother said in a conversational tone, and then, much softer: “Did he say something that upset you?”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a gentle demand to tell her everything, and hopelessly alone and lost, Robin wanted to do just that. “He doesn’t remember her… _our-_ ” But the words never got past the bile in her throat. She felt like throwing up, small dots of wetness appearing on the blankets.

The woman didn’t comment on her tears, and Robin was grateful for her respectful silence. Instead, she rubbed comforting circles into Robin’s back until she composed herself again. Contrary to the last time she was awake, this silence was comforting.  She could have stabbed her in the back at any moment, Robin realized all too well. She looked at the woman with new eyes, that of a fellow mother, and saw thinly concealed pain and worry, and felt even worse than she already did.

Perhaps this woman could turn out to be an ally in this strange world full of imposters, but she would have to play her cards right. With a voice befitting of an actress - or perhaps more aptly put, of a grandmaster - she took her mother’s hand in her own and apologized.  “It must hurt you too, when I said I didn’t remember you. I apologize.”

The small crack in her supposed mother’s smile told Robin all she needed to know. “There is nothing to apologize for,” she dismissed quickly with a new light in her eyes. “But I have to know what upset you so much, dear.”

Robin swallowed deeply, repeating her resolve in her mind. “He…. he asked me what I remembered,” she admitted softly. “But none of our memories seem to match. Nor do I have any recollection of this place, or of the fashion you wear. It’s like I’m in a foreign world, waking up with a blank slate once more.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed in a way that she had only seen in her daughter’s face, or perhaps in the mirror. “That reckless, idiotic boy!” She cursed under her breath. “I had told him not to overburden you so quickly! When you were less lucid, Libra asked you some similar questions, and you reacted just as badly as you did today. Chrom knew better than to bring up the topic just like that.”

Well, that sounded familiar at least. “Diplomacy never _was_ his strong suit.”

“Of all things to remember..,” her mother uttered bitterly under her breath.

“And what about what I’ve forgotten?” Robin pressed, keeping her face as sincere as she could. She needed information to form a strategy.

“Robin…” When she pressed again, her mother sighed deeply. “I don’t want to risk you falling back into a coma. Dr. Libra advised-”

“From what I gathered, my memories don’t match up with anything. You keep telling me I’ve been hit with this ‘car’ thing, and yet I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean by that,” Robin interrupted her, interlacing truth into her deception, manipulating a mother’s heart with ease. “I have a right to know what is wrong with me. I might be ill right now, but hardly a child you need to protect.”

The woman let out a shrill, humorless chuckle. “A mother never stops worrying, dear. You’ll learn that in due time.” _Already have,_ Robin thought privately while she started explaining, reluctance palpable in her every word. “Sometimes, coma patients have vivid dreams, worlds of their own creation that locks them up in the safety of their minds until their body is ready. We weren’t sure, and it might just be a case of amnesia still, but-”

“Do you know the Halidom of Ylisse?” Robin interrupted, her heart beating fiercely in her chest.

Her mother’s confusion was sincere. “I’ve never heard of a halidom, is that some kind of kingdom?”

Robin ignored her question. “And Plegia, the desert kingdom? _Please_ , I need to know.”

“Mind your breathing,” her mother cautioned instead of answering, and it was only then that Robin realized how heavy she was breathing. “Perhaps you’ve heard enough for today. You’re still recovering-”

The patronizing yet sincere way she petted her hair drove home a simple but earth shattering truth: Neither Chrom nor this woman had any recollection of the world she had given her life for. Nobody would ever dare to withhold information from Ylisse’s queen and tactician, not after everything she had pulled off. Robin’s plan to secure an ally fell into a thousand little pieces, and everything around her was suddenly twice as bright, blindingly so.

During the two year peace, she had made it her life’s goal to find out everything she could about her own condition. To fall into a dreamlike state to cope with the physical damage while the body recovered… it was not uncommon. Suddenly, every miraculous maneuver she had pulled came into question, and a shadow of doubt was cast over her sanity.

Still, she had to ask. “And… Lucina? Morgan? Owain? Or even Inigo? Nah? Do any of these names mean _anything_ to you?”

“I’m afraid not, dear,” Her mother admitted with visible reluctance. “I’m so sorry.”

Robin’s breath caught in her throat, painful and sharp. It was one thing to lose a loved one. It was another thing to find out that they had never existed at all.

Outside, a bird cried a lonesome song, and the day slowly came at an end. Her mother left the room, but Robin barely registered the fact. Instead, she stared into the distance, weighing every memory of the past few years with the simple facts in front of her. It was a painful, violent silence, that tore at everything she thought she knew until Libra returned at the break of dawn the next morning with a fresh tray of food and a worried smile.

“So… all my memories… are a dream?” She said before she could say anything else, every syllable a stab straight through the heart.

Libra sighed, set down the tray and sat down on the side of her bed, his long hair exactly as luscious as she remembered it to be. Could it really be just a dream? “It’s not uncommon among coma patients such as yourself, though it rarely happens that the details of the dream tend to stick more than reality,” he explained calmly. “It’s been four weeks since you woke up, and the scans keep coming back clean, so there is no physical reason for your amnesia.”

“Ha.” Robin laughed bitterly, almost deliriously. She’d heard that one before, time and again from every ruler in the realm.

“Well, it’s good to see you can remain positive.”

Robin shook her head at his misinterpretation. “It’s just…In my… dream, I was an amnesiac too.”

“Truly?” Libra said with a raised brow. “Well that might explain a thing or two. Your mind might be convinced  you are an amnesiac, and therefor it blocks your memories.”

“My mind can do that?”

Libra sighed deeply. “The mind is truly Naga’s most complicated creation, and is as much our ally as it is our enemy. You’d be surprised what my other patients have forgotten just to protect themselves from the trauma they suffered. But in time, with proper therapy, your memories might return.”

“ _Might_ ,” Robin repeated.

“Only time will tell. Until then, we can only pray,” Libra admitted. “Now, the mind is tricky, but our mortal flesh is quite a lot simpler. The coma weakened your muscles, but with diligent practise you should be able to walk again without problems. It will require effort…”

“I’m not afraid to put in some hard work,” Robin vowed. She had raised herself from nothing to a grandmaster of strategy before- or perhaps she hadn’t, if what Libra said was true. Still, the sooner she’d be able to get back on her feet, the faster she’d be able to get to the bottom of this, and find out what was real and not.

“Then I’ll book an appointment with a friend of mine who is a renowned physiotherapist, to get you started as soon as you can,” Libra said after checking some strange, beeping boxes Robin had little understanding of. “You’re going to be fine, Robin. You’ve got a remarkable spirit.”

He was her healer, so he would know. Then, Robin got a plan. “Libra, one more thing before you leave. Did I know you before I fell into a coma?” He had appeared in her dream, after all.

Libra nodded with a nostalgic smile. “I did my internship with your GP, so we talked a few times, yes. Though you kept calling me nurse.” Robin quickly apologized for that. “Did I play a large part in your dream?”

“You were a warmonk, gentle and kind,” Robin admitted, remembering he had come to them in the hour of their greatest need. “Fearsome to behold with your axe though. You dealt as many wounds as you healed, I’m certain.”

Libra looked taken aback. “Dear heavens above…,” he muttered under her breath, and without asking Robin was certain he was as religious in this life as he was in the one she remembered. “Well, I think I can honestly say that nobody ever envisioned me in such a….”

“Masculine way?” Robin guessed correctly. Libra nodded, waiting for her to elaborate. “You were mistaken for a woman a few times during your first months in the army. But after-” Robin cut herself off before she gave herself away. There was no wedding ring on Libra’s finger, just like her own was naked. It was one thing to reveal that he had appeared in her dream world - which still felt as real as the white-walled room around her. It was another to tell him she had envisioned an entire life for her, including stalkerish wife and a slightly psychotic daughter from a doomed future, so she kept her silence.

After Libra left, she was left alone with the chaos in her mind. With pain in her heart, she remembered her own daughter, who had come to the past and had stopped at nothing in order to change fate, but only when needed, lest she accidentally prevented the birth of one of her friends. Robin figured that asking whether or not he and Tharja had any plans for marriage, let alone children, could probably be considered messing with the future.

 _Was_ this the future, or perhaps more aptly put, _a_ future? Or was this yet another realm altogether, parallel to the one she had lived and loved in previously?

Or perhaps was it all just a figment of an overactive imagination fighting for her dear life. How many times during the past four years spent at Chrom’s side had she asked herself if she hadn’t been dreaming all along? What were the odds that on the edge of despair, the prince of Ylisse and arguably the world’s only chance at sealing away the demon lurking within her blood, would find the vessel of said dragon in the middle of a field? And all the times they had escaped impossible situations with manoeuvres that she pulled out of thin air? It had been strategy, but not one without risks. And yet, aside from Emmeryn, no shepherd had died on her watch. How many wars were fought without any casualties? Not to mention the fact that she had two children who had travelled back in time, mere years younger than their parents.

Robin cradled her head in her hands. It pounded without ending now, thoughts driving her crazy every time she was left to her own devices. With every passing moment she started to put more stock in Libra’s amnesiac theory, for even with her arguably bright mind, she doubted she’d be able to keep this up much longer.

“Are you okay love?” Her mother asked for what seemed the thousand’s time already. “You look troubled.”

“I’m fine, mother.” Robin put as much emphasis on the last word as she could, willing her mind to accept this reality, hoping for a spark of recollection. But nothing happened. “Just tired.”

“Do you want me to call Chrom and ask him to come over? He’s been asking non-stop to see you, and you always look more alive when he’s at your side.”

For a second, Robin considered taking her up on her offer. Her husband - it was hard to think of anything else, despite the fact that it might have been all a dream - brought back a lot of memories, but not all of them were bad. Still, she wasn’t ready to face him yet, so she shook her head and made up some excuse she was certain her mother saw right through.

A quiet look passed between them, and her mother nodded. “Okay then. I’ll let him know you need some rest.”

-

“Chrom called again, asking to see you,” her mother reminded her for not the first time today.

Robin pretended not to hear her, and instead focused all her energy on balancing on the balls of her feet. It hurt, pain surging through her legs like a thousand needles, but it was definitely preferable to talking to him.

But her mother was relentless. “He’s getting a bit desperate, love. It’s been over a week, and you’re already starting to stand up on your own again. It’s not fair to keep him worrying.”

Her legs started trembling, and Robin allowed herself to take a quick break, falling back into her chair. She tiredly rubbed her sore legs, exhausted from more than just the exercise and perpetual  lack of sleep. “I need time to sort out what is real and what isn’t. He was a too prominent part of my dream world, and I’m afraid seeing him will start.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but her mother didn’t look convinced either. Robin estimated that it was a matter of time before she would let Chrom in herself, forcing the situation. It’s what she herself would have done after all.

However, she also knew her mother’s weakness, so she allowed a fragile, hopeful smile to spread her lips apart and pleaded. “Besides, I want to remember you. Don’t you want that too?”

Her mother sighed deeply, and Robin knew her plan had worked before she said it. “Alright then, I’ll tell him to wait a little longer.”

-

It took another full week of intensive therapy before she was able to walk to the window and back, with the help of crutches and her ever-watchful mother hovering behind her at any moment.

It was lonely without familiar faces, but it helped to get used to the little quiet room she had begun to call her own. Being able to look outside the window helped to ground this new reality into her bones, especially after seeing those strange machines called cars race by at breakneck speeds. Her mother patiently explained every seemingly mundane little thing to her, as detailed as she wanted it. It was far more complicated than her mind could have ever come up with, and with every passing day her memories felt more and more like a cheap fever dream.

But above all, she enjoyed spending time with her mother. Motherhood had come to her quickly, on top of all her duties to the Halidom and the army. Many times during the long, exhausting nights spent rocking a crying Lucy to sleep, she had longed for a mother of her own to show her the ropes. Now, that dream had come true.

“You keep fidgeting with that finger,” said woman remarked suddenly, pulling her out of her musings.

It was true; despite the knowledge that there had never been a ring around her finger, she still kept missing it like a phantom limb. Robin quickly hid her hand under the cover, getting red in the face despite it all. “Ah, sorry.” _Just a dream,_ she chanted over and over. _Just a dream._

Her mother looked at a loss of words for a bit, before she suddenly got up and nearly tripped of excitement while running out of the room, yelling: “Wait a second, dear!”

When she returned, it was with a small, dusty box in her hand. From it, she retrieved an old, dark golden ring with a six purple gemstones inlaid in it. She handed it over with little ceremony. “There you go. Your fingers are more slender than mine are right now, but I haven’t worn it in years so it might just fit you.”

Wordlessly, Robin slipped it on. It was indeed a perfect fit, the cold metal quickly heating against her skin, six little eyes staring back at her.

“You were married in your dream world, weren’t you?” Her mother explained when Robin wordlessly continued to stare at the jewel around her finger. “I remember when your father and I just got divorced, and I stopped wearing his ring. It felt awkward, like I was missing a part of my skin. I kept checking my finger every time I wasn’t thinking it, just like you were doing just now.”

Her father… _Validar_? Robin shuddered at the thought, and shelved that question into the back of her mind for another time. For now, she would take comfort where she could get it.

“I was indeed,” she answered belatedly. “It was a very happy marriage.” _To the man of my dreams, literally._

“Well, I hope you’re happier with it than I was. As a matter of fact, it’s yours now. I should have given it to you a long time ago anyway.”

“It does ease my mind a bit, but it’s still a lot to put my head around.” This ring was obviously of superior craftsmanship, but it was nothing compared to the simple engraved golden band Chrom had gifted her on the eve of their wedding.

 _Just a dream,_ she forcibly repeated to herself once more. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t woken up at all,” Robin admitted darkly.

Her mother sighed deeply, and Robin immediately regretted her words. “I’m so glad you’re back, baby. Words cannot describe how much I’ve missed you. Please, don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry,” Robin apologized. “Not just for that, but also for not remembering you. I… can imagine it’s painful when a child doesn’t remember all the love you’ve invested in them, all the memories spend together.”

“You already apologized for that, and you didn’t have to in the first place. You’re hardly at fault for that car crash, love.”

Robin bit her lip. She had apologized before, yes, but it had been for her own gain. This time, with her husband’s pained expression every time Morgan failed to remember him in mind, it was sincere.

“It’s painful, I’ll admit that,” her mother continued when it became clear that Robin wasn’t going to say anything. “But memories are just that: a fleeting figment of our past. What matters is that you are here with me now, and that we can make new memories.”

There was a spark in her dark brown eyes while she spoke, making Robin smile. “You remind me of someone from my dream.”

“Oh, really?” Her mother chimed hopefully, not unlike her son.

Thinking of Morgan hurt. Speaking of him was nigh impossible to bear, but she’d done the impossible before. “H-he was an amnesiac too, but it never kept him down for long. He remained optimistic throughout everything we faced, and he smiled just like you did,” Robin said slowly, remembering how the wind would sweep through his thick blue hair, nothing like her own. “H-his name was Morgan,” she admitted finally with tears threatening to fall.

She didn’t need to say how much she loved him, for no words could ever describe a mother’s love. Robin hoped that her own mother understood that, at least.

“Ah, well that explains a few things,” her mother said. “You muttered his name before during your less lucid moments, but I first thought you were calling for me. You see, my name is Morgana, though I was always ‘mother’ to you of course.”

“Morgana,” Robin tasted the name on her tongue. She had heard people say it a few times before, but it felt different coming from her own lips.

Even within the realms of her memories, it made sense. Morgan had been her son, her pride and joy, but she hadn’t given birth to him and probably never would now. That privilege belonged to herself from Lucina’s world, who had been in full possession of her memories, or at least so Robin had always assumed. Morgan wasn’t exactly a common Ylissean name, and Robin had wondered before why her future self had chosen it. In honor of a mother long lost, apparently.

But if all of that had been a dream, she should have known that. Her subconscious could have fooled her, or fed her little parts of her memories until they were twisted into a child of her own. Robin immediately shook her head, dismissing the thoughts for now. The very notion that her children were nothing but a spark of in the mind of a very creative coma patient was more than she could take right now.

“Was he your husband?” Her mother asked out of the blue.

Robin nearly choked on air. “No!” She spat out, the mere notion sending shivers down her spine.

“You looked so longingly when you spoke his name, so I thought perhaps…” Then, a large, knowing smile suddenly appeared on her face. “Then, it is Chrom, right?”

Before Robin could affirm or heatedly deny her claim, a third and oh-so-very familiar voice chimed out from the door opening. “What am I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there is the second chapter. The third will have to wait a it longer, but will feature Frederick and the Exalted family. Your guesses what's going to happen are welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> And that’s part one! Sorry if this is not as shippy as I would have liked, buuuut in the later parts you’ll understand. This was entirely inspired by @forestsagess and her story ‘cycles’, which made me wonder what would have happened if ‘our’ Robin would have ended up in the ‘real world’. The next chapter will be updated somewhere next week.


End file.
